


Speak to Me

by whosCas (EyeofOrion)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeofOrion/pseuds/whosCas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Years of torment can drive even kings over the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak to Me

Dean is on his knees. Maybe there are tears; he doesn’t know. At this point, whether or not he’s in tears seems a hilariously inconsequential matter. It’s been hours – maybe days; it’s not as if the sun rising and setting makes any difference anymore, anyway.

There are rusty, stained and barbaric-looking devices – blades of iron, silver and God only knows what – scattered across the floor, filth and blood ground into the floorboards. Holy water drips through the gaps in the floor; oil leaks from a broken, ancient vessel to form rainbow-hued pools before trickling away too. Dean has recited every exorcism he’s ever known, so many times he couldn’t begin to count, in varying volumes and degrees of desperation. He’s yelled himself hoarse, he’s begged and pleaded, he’s tortured. White-knuckled, he’s gripped the arms of the chair to which the other man is bound in iron and leather – but he has not attempted to escape. The other man’s arms are criss-crossed with slashes from silver and iron blades, and he’s covered with smeared symbols and sigils, every one Dean could think of, clumsily daubed onto or carved into the skin.

The last dregs of hope in Dean’s eyes are waning now, as he stares at the wreckage of what was once such a beautiful man. Whatever hope Dean once had has long since turned to raw desperation, a simple _need_.

“You’re not a demon,” he croaks, in a voice that rivals the bloodied mess that slumps before him in brokenness. “Not a werewolf, a shifter, a vampire, an angel.”

The other man does not deny it. “No, Dean. I’m not.”

When Dean speaks again, it’s clear he’s just as much trying to convince himself as the man before him.

“But you’re _not him_ ,” Dean insists. “You’re _not him!_ ” His voice shifts wildly in volume, no longer really under his control. “ _HE WOULDN’T!_ ”

Dean receives no comment on this, and his eyes flick momentarily to the wall haphazardly covered in newspaper cuttings documenting a string of violent murders – horrifically brutal, coldly executed, staggeringly numerous. Seemingly lacking any motive, and all bearing the same signature. And everything, _everything_ points to the man shackled, unresisting, in front of Dean.

“ _WHAT ARE YOU?_ ” he bellows, but the man in the chair just gives the same answer as he has the previous hundred times.

“You’ve done all the tests,” he says calmly. “You know I’m not a demon. I’m not a monster – not the type you hunt, anyway. You _know_ , Dean.”

Dean does know. He’s sickened; thrown off balance as he has been every other time the man has spoken from the iron-bound chair, his voice devoid of pride, but also of shame. He speaks with the tone of one who knows he has no future, and accepts the fact, with neither hope nor bitterness. As easily as accepting that the world revolves around the sun.

“Stop now, Dean. You know the truth.”

Perhaps it was inevitable. Perhaps his mind always had a tear in it, and so many years of terror and pain and blood had pulled and pulled it until it really was only a matter of time before it fell apart entirely.

“There’s no demon in me; nobody forced me to do this.”

Dean drops the knife he’s been holding so hard it’s sliced a groove into his hand; not that he’s noticed. He knows what’s coming.

“I’m your brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from [“Speak to Me”](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qU3uOGhF0i0) \- Pink Floyd
> 
> This is my first Supernatural ficlet. I would appreciate feedback, and if anyone wants to beta read any of my future fic, that would be cool of you.


End file.
